They took away her brother. He was only twenty-one, and they took him away.

Grief is not an emotion she had personally met with before. It only ever presented itself
to her as a passing stranger - something reserved for sad works of fiction or local gossip about
widowed neighbors. However, it practically kicked down her door and demanded a relationship
on the day she received a phone call from an unknown number.
It was a doctor, and she only needed to hear the words “Mercy Hospital” and “regret to
inform you” to know that it was about her brother. She only has one immediate family member.
Had.
To say the least, she's had much to think about.
They took away my brother.
The after-death arrangements take time. What’s to be done with the deceased’s house?
Do you keep the deceased’s items or do you give them away? What type of funeral should you
arrange? That part isn’t so bad, though - the government covers the cost of any Hunt related
funeral expenses, so it can be as lavish or reserved as you like. She keeps it simple; she thinks
that’s what he would’ve wanted.
They took away my brother.
She, personally, has never participated in the Hunt before. She can see the necessity of
it from the Other’s end - they were created to thin out the ever-growing human population, they
can’t help what they were made to do - but hunting them back just felt counterproductive.
Apparently the lure of revenge is too strong for some people. She couldn’t understand that
before. But she understands now.
They took away my ​brother.
The day after the funeral, she goes shopping for everything she needs. This year, she
won’t be quite so passive.
This year, she’ll hunt the hunters. Or die trying.